No Good Girls

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Love Poem

 

P.O. said I was done. So I bolted to my car.
My first car; baking in the coastal summer sun.
Looking down to the ground,
watching my soles shuffle on the concrete.

I heard it,
“Eli !?!”

 

There she was. The one who let me down.

I’d have loved her had she been true.

Her skin pale as paper.
Her raven hair; black and sleek.
She gave an open arm meeting for the unplanned meeting.
Heart beat’s erratic; no rhythm or rhyme.

Her hands on the nape of my neck; her body close,
fingernails tickling my skin.
Her lips trembled as her words moved through the air.
“I missed you, it’s been so long”

I pulled away and swore to keep in touch. The illusive look in her eye;
told me all she could’ve said.

“I wanted to kiss you then and there.” she typed.
“I know…” was all I could muster in reply.
The girl was just no good.

 

 

 

 

She had flirted and flaunted with no message left misunderstood.
She left her friend to wait in that dark and dusty deli as she grabbed a fist full of my shirt.            Carting me off to a private place.

She pulled me in and forced her lips to mine.
The urge could be felt in the ether. Growing warmer by the second.
My fingers found their way across the inseam of her jeans;
She caught fire.

Shoved against a metal door; the metal teeth unhinged.
Pulling her dirty blonde hair from her face.
A soft pop sounded as she finally pulled away.
Cleaning the spit from her lips.

“What time is it?” she asked.

She rushed out and left. She was late. Her kids at home with the babysitter.
Her husband out at sea.
I didn’t know she was a whore;
I knew she was no good.

She’d learned my name and she’d kissed me deep.
Enamored by a simple sentence in passing.
Of course; she didn’t make sound decisions.
She dropped dextromethorphan like it was aspirin.
She spent money like it was free.
Covered in questionable tattoos;
Pierced all over the place.

Her life long friend was a pregnant junkie.
She was punky; just for the clothes.

Smoked cigarettes inside.
Gave it up within the week.

She ended it with “You’re too good for me Eli.”
She knew she was no good.

 

 

 

 

She was gonna go, just like the other times before.
She sat in the small chair; her hair shorn short like Mia’s.
Said the stars weren’t right. They never were it seemed.
I kissed her one last time and held her tiny body tight.
I crumbled and fell; alone.
Fucked up and spun out over that one girl.

I looked in brown bottles, trying to look into her brown eyes.
I smoked myself stolid, trying to see her smile.
Pills couldn’t medicate me deep enough.
Ersatz women couldn’t suffice.

When I’d finally given up;
called off the search.
When I accepted she was thousands of lifetimes away;

 and it was never going to happen.

It happened.

She came back and fucked up my world.
She loves me now that no good girl.

 

more by JORDAN CLAYTON

photograph by Aral Tasher

 

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Jordan Clayton

I know a little about a lot, I write what I feel and know. I feel like Hank Chinaski lately. I've lived near airports all my life. I think; it gives the impression of escape.

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